


Silence

by Ryu_Reikai_Akuma



Category: Bohemian Rhapsody (Movie 2018), Queen (Band)
Genre: Arguing, Developing Relationship, Feelings Realization, M/M, Misunderstandings, Pining, Surprise Kissing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-08
Updated: 2019-03-08
Packaged: 2019-11-13 17:41:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,317
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18035909
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ryu_Reikai_Akuma/pseuds/Ryu_Reikai_Akuma
Summary: An argument led to two weeks of Brian avoiding Roger. Roger was fine with that until he wasn’t—absence did make the heart grow fonder.





	Silence

**Author's Note:**

> You know how Brian and Roger argued often? I’m convinced that at least some of the time Roger was being deliberately argumentative just to annoy him. Combined with Roger’s reaction in the film when Brian told Freddie to leave them for a moment, I ended up with this. Also my brain was absolutely fried when I edited this. It still is fried. Please have mercy and pray for my sanity. Thanks.

Brian’s anger was silent. He wasn’t easy to anger to begin with, but when he did get angry, he was a force to be reckoned with. He’d try to reason at first, explaining his logic in his quiet voice with just a hint of aggravation in his tone and occasional profanities. Then, came the glare—piercing, disapproving, intimidating—accompanied by slightly raised voice until the person who had provoked him fell quiet or apologized. When no sign of regret or peace was forthcoming, he was silent. No word, no glare, nothing. He would simply leave the room. Less wise people would say that he was licking his wounds, but those who knew him well knew that it meant his anger was in full force and reacted accordingly, letting him have his way.

Freddie rarely had to deal with that side of Brian. When they argued, they generally knew when and how to stop and calm themselves down. John had only ever seen but never faced it at all, preferring to avoid any conflict entirely if possible. It was Roger who knew that silent anger too well. He couldn’t help it. His and Brian’s personalities clashed terribly. While Freddie merely raised his voice, Roger would shout. While John retreated at the first possibility of disagreement, Roger strode into it. He wasn’t usually even aware of it, too focused on winning the argument to pay attention to the cues he actually already knew by heart. It was usually when Brian had already left the room or when he sent Roger away so he could think that Roger realized what he had done. Pride and indignation that kept Roger from admitting defeat didn’t last long when the object of his rage was gone. Soon, they were replaced by nervousness and no small amount of fear of having fucked up something good, probably the best thing that had ever happened in his life.

This time, they had yet another disagreement over a song. Roger, not for the first time, had complained about Brian being too slow and Brian had argued that he was just improving the song. It was a common enough argument that Freddie and John had decided to stop practicing and wait for them to be done. But, Roger supposed he was especially stubborn today. He couldn’t remember what he had said precisely, but on hindsight, at some point Brian’s voice had gradually quieted down into silence. When Freddie tried to stop him, Roger ignored this, too invested in being right and winning the argument. It was only after Brian stalked out of the studio and Roger paced around for a few minutes that he realized what had happened. Trepidation dawned on him and he turned to the door as if he would see Brian there.

“Give him a moment. He’ll come back,” Freddie advised, obviously disappointed that they couldn’t continue practicing, but knowing better than to force Brian to come back before he was ready. Beside him, John smiled tightly in agreement.

Roger was still uneasy, but there was nothing for him to do except sitting behind his drum kit again and idly smoking and playing until Brian came back. He surreptitiously glanced at the clock on the wall every few minutes, anxiously counting the elapsing minutes. Usually, Brian would come back in a quarter of an hour or so for a truce. However, this time the half hour mark approached and he still hadn’t returned. Even Freddie and John were beginning to look restless. They didn’t blame Roger, but he felt guilty nonetheless. His defensiveness had evaporated when the fifteen minutes passed without Brian in sight. He knew he should apologize, something he never had to do before. Brian usually returned with a clearer mind and after some tense moments, he would give Roger a smile and a nod and everything would be as good as forgotten and they would laugh and joke and maybe go to a pub afterwards. This time, however, Roger had a terrible feeling that something was very wrong.

When Brian finally came back, Freddie welcomed him with light reprimands. He said nothing to this, although he gave John an apologetic nod. Roger didn’t even get a glance, even though he must have seen how Roger jumped up from his seat when he opened the door. He was still angry, then. All right. Roger could wait. Although generally impatient, he knew how to take his time when faced with a problem like this—it wasn’t the first time he had made someone very angry. Sometimes, waiting was better than immediately apologizing. If Brian was still upset, Roger wouldn’t aggravate him by reminding him of their recent argument. At times like this, it was better to be professional and prioritize practice over personal sentiments.

They managed to continue their practice with no further disagreement and actually made a progress on the debated song. Freddie was quite satisfied at the end of it and John was pleased that there was no more fight. Roger, meanwhile, was thoroughly unhappy. Brian hadn’t said a word to him or even looked at him. When there was something to be said, he addressed the whole band instead of Roger. When Roger tried to contribute, he listened but neither agreed nor disagreed, letting Freddie speak for the rest them. Now as they were going home, he just quietly packed his guitar and was out of the door before Roger say anything to him. The unusually long silent anger began to eat at Roger, but he tried to be patient and waited. It wasn’t like he had nothing to do beside waiting for Brian to forgive him. He had friends to keep company, girls to have fun with, Freddie to get in trouble with, and John to tease. Honestly, Roger had better things to do that agonizing over one angry friend.

But, when a few days passed still without a single word from Brian, Roger began to feel more and more anxious. It wasn’t like they usually spend a lot of time together—Roger spent more time with Freddie than with him—but the complete silence was unsettling. The avoidance was more obvious and hurtful when he found out that Brian had gone to a pub with Freddie and John one evening, but didn’t bother to invite Roger to come along with them. Freddie admitted that he had tried to convince Brian to take Roger with them, but he had been adamant about not asking him and Freddie was too worried about having that anger directed to him to insist.

That hurt a lot more than Roger cared to admit. He dismissed it with a wave of hand and a roll of eyes in front of Freddie, but once in the privacy of his room, he let the mask of indifference fall. He looked around the room at the posters of musicians he aspired to surpass, the stacks of papers containing songs he had written, his drum sticks, the pile of fancy clothes he wore on stage, the picture on his desk of the four of them after an exhausting practice. The picture grabbed his attention. It showed the four of them leaning against his drum set, completely knackered but also very pleased with themselves. Roger was sat next to Brian, resting heavily against him in tiredness, and there were grins on their faces as they looked at the camera. Looking at the picture, how closely they sat together, how comfortable they were around each other, no one would guess how often he and Brian argued. No one would guess that Brian would deliberately exclude him from band outings, not even Roger. A flash of irritation nearly made Roger threw the picture away, but the urge passed quickly. Without real provocation, there was no reason for Roger to be actually angry, yet the lack of reason punctuated the frustration he desperately wanted to relief.

The next day, as soon as his last lecture ended, Roger went to the library and installed himself in front of the building, smoking anxiously. A few girls caught his eyes and some friends invited him to go with them, but he resolutely remained where he was. Roger knew Brian’s schedule by heart. On Thursdays, he would be in the library, studying ahead so he could spend the weekends with his friends or performing. This schedule was rarely altered as Brian was the most studious of the four of them, and even of anyone Roger knew—and he knew quite a lot of people! Roger was absolutely certain that Brian was somewhere in the building, poring over books most people wouldn’t begin to understand. As much as Roger hated waiting and feeding his anxiety, he didn’t want to disturb Brian’s study time and potentially make things even worse between them. He was bound to go home eventually and Roger was determined to catch him then.

As long minutes passed, the number of crushed cigarette end around Roger feet grew. Roger slipped his cold hand into his shirt to warm it, and gritted his teeth. He resisted the urge to check his watch because knowing how long he had waited would just make things more torturous than it already was. Sooner or later Brian would come out and then he would see that he wasn’t the only stubborn man in the band. The thought of how much seeing him would spite Brian rejuvenated Roger’s spirit. Yes, he did feel terrible for what had happened, but it didn’t mean he wasn’t at all upset about being left out. Regardless of the reason behind it, Roger was offended. All of them might fight with each other from time to time, but in the end they were in this together. They were good friends who just wanted to have fun and escape from their mundane lives while simultaneously realizing their dreams. Roger wouldn’t terribly mind being on the receiving end of Brian’s ominous silence for however long he wanted to hold a grudge, but he couldn’t stand being excluded from the people he had started to think of as family.

Roger cursed as the smoke of his cigarette stung his eyes, making them water. He crushed the half-finished cigarette viciously under his boot and removed his sunglasses to roughly rub his eyes with the back of his hand. A faint noise caught his attention and when he looked up, he found Brian standing just outside the door of the library, staring at him in surprise. Roger put back his sunglasses and regarded Brian with the calmest expression he could muster. He saw Brian’s eyes swept over the cigarette ends marking his territory and flicked back up to Roger’s face slightly widened as he realized that Roger had waited for him—and not for a short time, either. However, the little satisfaction Roger derived from seeing this realization quickly evaporated when Brian merely schooled his face and nodded to him when he passed Roger to make his way back to his flat.

Roger scowled, offended by the cold treatment and unwilling to let his effort go to waste. Unwisely, he called out before Brian managed to take more than a couple of steps away from him, “I heard you had fun at the pub with Freddie and Deacy the other night.” That wasn’t the best opening line to gain someone’s forgiveness, but Roger hadn’t just braved cold wind for what seemed like forever just to be ignored by Brian again. This at least made Brian stop and look at him, albeit warily. “I suppose you didn’t know I was free,” he continued, unable to hide bitterness in his voice.

Brian said nothing and for a moment Roger thought he would simply walk away. But, he then took a deep breath and spoke, addressing Roger directly for the first time in many days, “I didn’t think you could make it. You’re usually… busy.”

The pause didn’t go unnoticed. Roger bristled, knowing exactly what Brian was implying. So what if he had a rather active dating life? It wasn’t like Brian was completely celibate! Did he think Roger didn’t notice when he disappeared with a girl after their performance? Or that he sometimes wore scarf to hide hickeys on his neck? Or the heated way he looked at Roger’s dates? Roger was going to bring that up when he remembered why he was there, waiting for hours in front of a damn library when he could be in the warmth and comfort of his flat, a pub, or a girl’s bed. He was here to settle their fight. He shouldn’t get distracted. “You could’ve asked,” Roger said accusingly.

Brian looked at him for a long moment and sighed. “I could’ve,” he admitted. He looked at the cigarettes littered around Roger and averted his eyes. “I have to go home. I have a big test coming up.”

Roger didn’t want to let him go, but he understood the importance of academics to Brian. Roger just wanted to graduate, but Brian actually wanted to excel in his field. Just as Brian let and helped him and Freddie chased their dreams of fame and success, Roger, too, supported his aspirations. So, reluctantly Roger let him walk away with measured long steps. At least he wasn’t rushing to leave, although Roger could tell that he wasn’t exactly keen on staying around him. And to his credit, when Roger asked his extensive connection, there actually _was_ a big test coming up for Brian. So, Roger decided not to bother him until it was done. He didn’t like leaving things unfinished and, yes, he could be completely single-minded when there was something he wanted, but he wasn’t completely inconsiderate. Regardless of their fight, Roger still considered Brian his friend and if leaving him alone to study in peace was how he could show his support, then he’d do it.

In the meantime, Roger enlisted John’s help to know how Brian was doing (studying to his death as usual, apparently) as John was allowed access to Brian unlike him. He was told that Brian’s mood fluctuated, although John generously attributed it to the stress of the upcoming exam rather than the ongoing feud. Roger was more realistic. He knew Brian was still unhappy with him. If nothing else, then because he apparently refused to talk about Roger when John tried to bring him up. Roger almost asked John to help him pacify Brian, but the warning look Freddie sent him made him think twice. Freddie was right, of course. While Roger didn’t think Brian would misdirect his anger to mild-mannered John, he shouldn’t involve anyone else in his problem. He shouldn’t break the band apart more than he already had. Under Freddie’s watchful eyes, he just asked John to find out when Brian’s test would be so that Roger could make another attempt at reconciliation.

The look on Brian’s face when he found Roger waiting for him at the parking lot almost made Roger grin in triumph. But, he managed to keep a straight face, remembering the seriousness of the issue that had brought him to wait on Brian for hours twice now. “How was the test?” he asked.

Brian hesitated, shifting his heavy bag on his hip. “It was all right.”

“I’m sure you nailed it. You always do.”

Roger hardly ever openly complimented Brian, but that didn’t mean he didn’t admire him. He thought Brian was the most phenomenal guitarist he had ever worked with, smartest man he had ever known, and most thoughtful person he had ever been acquainted with. He wasn’t a bad songwriter, either, and as a person his loyalty and patience when dealing with the band and Roger in particular were more than a little admirable. Roger wasn’t entirely sure about what Brian’s fans and dates saw in him, but he would readily admit that Brian was definitely not bad looking and the quietly confident way he carried himself easily drew attention. He was a good man, he really was. Their clash in personalities meant they often disagreed, but Roger wasn’t blind to these things. It was just that his pride had made him keep this to himself. Until now, that was. His pride was stung a little that he had to acknowledge Brian’s intelligence, but it was nothing compared to the fear and pain of the possibility of losing his friendship.

“I hope so,” Brian returned. He looked surprised, obviously not missing the rarity of Roger recognizing his achievements. “It’s quite windy today.”

Roger slowly smiled, pleased that Brian cared enough about him to implicitly warn him about the weather. “It is. I’m pretty warm, though!” he said, patting his thick yellow jacket that he had gotten at a great price a couple of days ago, earning a familiar wary look from Brian. “I can give you a ride home if you want.”

There was an expression Roger didn’t recognize that passed Brian’s face that made him regret his offer. It seemed like he spoke too soon. Just because Brian seemed to be in a better mood about him, it didn’t mean he was ready to be friends with Roger again. Although, honestly, how much time did he need? It had been over a week! Even Roger’s anger that Brian so often complained about never lasted more than a couple of days! Dismayed but helpless to take back his words, Roger watched Brian’s eyes moved from him, to the van, and to the students milling around them. Despite having expected it, Roger’s heart still sank when Brian shook his head.

“No, thanks. I have plans with friends.”

“Friends?” Roger asked, audibly skeptical.

“Friends,” Brian confirmed unconvincingly.

Roger gritted his teeth in annoyance and disappointment. “Have fun with your _friends_ , I guess,” he said bitterly.

This at last pulled a proper reaction out of Brian. He frowned and opened his mouth like he was going to say something. Knowing him as Roger did, it was probably some kind words to reassure him that everything would be all right, there was no need to be upset, that he would eventually forgive him, that everything would go back to the way they had been before. Although, at this point, Roger would be glad to hear Brian lecturing him on his stupid temper or even his drum playing, just anything as long as he would say more than a few short sentences to him. It was stupid to hope for an argument, but Roger still held his breath for it anyway.

However, eventually, Brian shook his head. “If there’s nothing else, I’m going.”

Roger shrugged, although he was more than a little hurt by the dismissal. “Sure.”

Brian hesitated, looking at Roger for a long moment. Roger thought he looked a little regretful, but in the end he still turned away. Roger didn’t even wait for him to get out of his sight before jumping into his van and driving to the nearest pub. When the next day Freddie complained that the girls he brought home were too loud, he merely shrugged. A man had to find his fun somewhere when he was denied the company of his good friend.

Not that Roger had no other friend, of course. He certainly loved spending time with Freddie, trying to convert John to his nefarious ways, and enjoying said nefarious ways with his other friends outside of the band. But, he knew no one else like Brian. He was the steady grounding presence in Roger’s life. When they weren’t arguing, he was the one Roger came to for a serious talk or just quiet companionship that no one else could provide. He made up some of Roger’s self-control, even though Roger didn’t always listen to him. He gave just enough opposition to Roger to make things interesting and force him to think before acting. When Brian turned out to be right and Roger wrong, he was always there to help Roger fix the mess he created. And, all right, maybe Roger had a few times (okay, more than a few times) deliberately argued or got himself in trouble so he could get a reaction out of Brian or force him to spend time with him. In Roger’s defense, Brian was so serious sometimes that Roger felt it was his duty as a friend to help him loosen up a little, even if it meant arguing with him. Brian was irreplaceable in his life and every day that went by without him made Roger miserably and keenly aware of what he was missing.

This wasn’t a problem easily solved by alcohol or girls (although Roger did try them just in case.) He was uneasy and restless when not morose. Roger was unfamiliar with the feelings, but knew he had to work them out. So, he’d taken to pacing around his dingy flat and playing the drums as loudly as he could in the vain hope that physical exertion would improve his moods. If provoked, he probably would’ve flown into a rage, but aside from several close calls in pubs, his friends generally knew him enough not to irritate him at the moment. Even Freddie hadn’t tried to pick a fight with him lately. Roger absently wondered if that was also why he had seen so little of John. He supposed he couldn’t blame him for trying to keep his distance from Roger when he was in this peculiar mood. God knows Roger would stay away from himself if he could.

“You’re pining, dear,” Freddie commented one evening as Roger scowled at their TV for not providing a distracting enough entertainment. He rolled his eyes when Roger denied him grouchily, then sat down on a chair a safe distance away from Roger and the TV. “You should talk to him.”

“What do you think I’ve been trying to do?” Roger snapped, glowering at him.

Freddie didn’t bat an eyelid. “Stalking him.”

Roger huffed. “If he’d let me talk, I wouldn’t have to wait for him for hours to finish his stupid studies!”

“I was talking about how you keep asking Deacy about how Brian is doing, but I see I was right. You’re stalking him.” Freddie gracefully dodged when Roger threw a thin pillow at him. “Well, have you tried setting up a meeting with him?”

“No. He was always in a hurry to get away from me.”

This was usually where Brian would give him an exasperated look or laugh at him in amusement before patting his shoulder or his head as a gentle reminder to act his age or an encouragement to continue the entertainment. Roger didn’t always like that, sometimes feeling that it was condescending, but now that it was gone, he realized how much those simple gestures meant for him. No one calmed him quite like Brian did. No one faced his temper as unflinchingly. No one knew him this well and still cared for him as long as he had. And Roger lost him, one of the best people he knew, certainly one of the most important people in his life although he realized it too late, because of a stupid fucking argument about playing a stupid song too slowly. These thoughts made Roger’s eyes sting. He looked away from Freddie to light a cigarette.

Freddie looked at him for a long moment. When he spoke again, his voice was gentle. “Why don’t you go to his flat? He’s been there a lot since… well.”

“What happened to stalking?” Roger asked. He cleared his throat when his voice came out hoarser than he expected. Perhaps he had been smoking too much.

Freddie sighed and stood up. “If it’ll make the two of you stop being such miserable wankers, I’ll allow it.”

Roger considered Freddie’s advice. He hadn’t wanted to go to Brian’s flat despite knowing he was there because Brian tended to look for some space whenever arguments escalated. It seemed only fair that Roger should give Brian the option to leave if he became uncomfortable, even if it meant ending the conversation early. Roger could be selfish, but he wasn’t entirely inconsiderate. He cared about his friends, about Brian. The last thing Roger wanted was to make him uncomfortable. It was one thing to argue with him at length about music or their preferences, but it was an entirely different thing to corner him just to relieve Roger’s self-inflicted mental torture.

But, the silence had dragged on for too long. Roger needed to talk to Brian— _wanted_ to talk to him. He was sick of waiting and speculating and being avoided. He was absolutely tired of missing his friend, of losing someone who had been such a major part of his life, of feeling incomplete. Brian was, for better or worse but mostly better, an essential part of his life and a life without him, as Roger had seen for the past couple of weeks, was decidedly a less happy place. The possibility of angering Brian enough to permanently end their friendship was positively painful, but he supposed if it ever came to that then he fully deserved it. He had been difficult. He _was_ difficult. How Brian managed to stand him for so long was a mystery. Perhaps that was what it was. Perhaps that argument had been the last straw. Perhaps after years of dealing with Roger’s temper, Brian had finally had enough. Perhaps it was too late to mend everything. But, Roger still wanted to make one last try.

Roger drove to Brian’s flat the following afternoon. On the way, rather impulsively, he bought a small bouquet of flowers. It often worked on his angry exes, so he hoped that it would at least soften Brian enough to listen to him. It might not, but Roger was ready to try anything that could help his cause. The fight had lasted too long. The wound had festered on too long. Roger had heard nothing about how Brian felt about this, but judging from their previous meetings, he could guess that he didn’t feel much better than he did. Some days ago, this thought would’ve pleased him, but now he just wanted it to be over. This fight had to reach a conclusion, one way or another. This wouldn’t be an easy conversation and Roger dreaded it as much as he was anxious for it.

Standing in front of Brian’s door, Roger didn’t let himself hesitate. He pushed the doorbell and waited, heart not quite pounding in his chest but definitely beating faster. His hand was clammy on the bouquet. He started patting his jacket for a cigarette to calm his nerves, but stopped himself, reminding himself firmly that Brian didn’t like the smoke. He fidgeted instead, shifting his weight from one foot to another as he waited for Brian to open the door. He couldn’t remember the last time he tried so hard to please someone, but he knew Brian was worth every little effort—perhaps more so than anyone he had ever tried to impress in the past.

Roger looked up when the door swung open. He tried to smile winningly as he often did to charm people, but the way Brian stared at him in surprise and confusion made him incapable of more than an apprehensive twist of his lips. His heart was definitely racing now, even as something in him was soothed by Brian’s presence. Roger watched his eyes flick down to the bouquet of lily-of-the-valleys and red tulips in his hand, then back to his face again.

“Did you lose your way to a girl’s place?” Brian asked, a small frown on his face.

Roger rolled his eyes and thrust the bouquet toward Brian. “For you,” he announced.

Brian’s eyes widened. “Oh,” he breathed as he slowly took the bouquet from Roger. He studied the flowers closely. Under the glow of the setting sun, it almost looked like he was blushing.

Pleased that his peace offering was accepted, Roger breathed easier. “I’m here to apologize.”

“ _Oh_.”

The changed tone of Brian’s voice made Roger think he had made a misstep somehow. Roger mentally berated himself, even though he couldn’t figure out what he had said or done wrong—was it the bouquet? Was he already set on not forgiving Roger? Mostly clear-headed for once, he recognized that Brian was considering a retreat. Roger couldn’t have that, not after everything they had both gone through. Prolonging this would only make them both more miserable. As much as he didn’t want to push Brian when their relationship was barely mending, he also didn’t want to leave things unfinished yet again.

“Can I come in?” Roger asked a little demandingly, nodding toward the flat.

Brian hesitated, but eventually stepped aside, allowing Roger entrance. Roger came in and looked at the living room with its arrays of books on the coffee table. Safely placed on a chair was Brian’s beloved guitar. There was a half-finished cup of tea on the table in front of the chair, right next to a sheet full of lines of Brian’s scrawl, some of them crossed out. It was a familiar sight. Not too long ago, Roger would’ve taken the paper to read and criticize Brian’s latest song, they would’ve argued, the song would’ve been changed beyond recognition, they would’ve spent the rest of the evening singing it and talking about their plans and dreams for the band, they would’ve been happy in each other’s company. But, now Roger held back and turned toward Brian, who was leaning against a wall, studying the flowers in his hand and ignoring Roger. Silence between them had never felt this suffocating and Roger hated that he had to think of his words carefully instead of speaking freely as he usually did.

Roger cleared his throat. “I’m sorry about what I said two weeks ago.”

Brian glanced up at him through the wild curls of his hair. “It’s fine,” he said with a small shrug.

“Then, why are you still not talking to me?” Roger snapped. He exhaled loudly when he realized that his temper had reared its ugly head again, only managing to let it simmer just under the surface. “Just tell me what to do to make it up to you.”

Brian sighed and turned the bouquet in his hand over and over again. The fact that he didn’t immediately throw the gift away was mildly encouraging, but the unnatural slump of his shoulders, the almost defeated look he gave the damn flowers, indicated that, whatever he claimed, he wasn’t fine. Roger waited impatiently, jaws clenched tightly. He just wanted to help making things better for the both of them since Brian was clearly unwilling to make an attempt. Why wouldn’t Brian let him do that?

“Nothing,” Brian finally said, shaking his head.

“Bollocks!” Roger spit out empathically. This time he didn’t try to hold back. “You’ve been avoiding me and refusing to talk to me! Now you’re hardly even looking at me!” Even that failed to make Brian look at him, he scowled. “You want me to beg you to forgive me? Quit the band so you don’t have to see me again?” he shouted.

“No!” Brian exclaimed, pushing himself off the wall. He took one long step close toward Roger and raised his hands as if to stop him. But, his hands only hovered over Roger’s arms before Brian dropped them and shook his head. “No,” he said again, more quietly this time.

Of course the band was what finally got Brian’s attention. Much as Roger loved Freddie and John and the music the four of them made together, this still left a bitter taste in his mouth. He thought of the time they had spent together and how much it meant for him. Brian was a very good friend to him. It hurt more than he cared to admit to think that he was only a band mate to Brian, someone to play the damn drums for his songs.

“Rog,” Brian sighed. “No, I don’t want you to beg or leave the band.”

“You want to never see me again?” Roger asked in a strained voice. He narrowed his eyes at Brian, hurt and angry collecting in his throat, clogging it terribly.

Brian hesitated. “I’m not angry. This is not about what you said two weeks ago. I’ve mostly forgotten what you said. We must’ve had that argument hundreds of times by now. I’m fine with that,” he said slowly. He glanced down at the flowers still in his hand and swallowed so loudly Roger could hear him. “It’s what I realized when I left the studio to calm down. I…” Brian stopped, took a deep breath and shook his head. When he looked at Roger again, his face was a steely with determination. “Never mind. Would you please just leave?”

Roger didn’t even have to think before responding. “No.”

“Roger.”

Roger crossed his arms and planted his feet firmly on the floor. “Not until you tell me what it’s all about. If this isn’t about the fight, then what is it?” he demanded.

Brian gaped at him. Roger could tell that he was formulating an argument in his mind, something clever to convince Roger to leave his flat. The moment was strangely comforting in its familiarity, a testament to their slightly dysfunctional relationship. Roger knew how to argue with him and how to win an argument against him. Of the two of them, Brian was better at putting his mind into words and getting people to do what he wanted. But, Roger was far more stubborn than he ever could be. He knew how to get his way (albeit rather underhandedly) and he was absolutely determined to get his way this time.

“I’m not leaving until you talk,” he asserted, glaring at Brian in challenge.

The look on Brian’s face was unmistakably that of frustration. Roger had a moment of feeling victorious before Brian’s expression turned into something he had never seen before and he leaned down to press his lips on the corner of Roger’s, warm and soft and containing more emotions than mere friendship. It lasted just a moment, hardly a second at all. He stepped back and looked away as Roger was still processing what had just happened. His hair almost completely hid his face from view, but still Roger could recognize from what he had seen of it the unfamiliar and unwelcomed grimness of guilt.

Brian had kissed him before in fits of excitement or drunkenness. Roger didn’t mind—he was always fond of physical affection. In fact, he liked how Brian’s usual seriousness and self-possession melted in those moments, how he grinned widely and drew Roger close to plant a firm kiss on his cheeks. Roger had kissed him, too, in similar manners, had kissed the crinkles on his cheeks when he smiled and his high cheekbones. He’d always liked the look of happiness and surprise Brian gave him for that, like somehow even after all these years he still couldn’t believe that Roger might like him enough to be affectionate. But, they had never kissed like this. The corner of Roger’s lips still tingled from the brief contact. Brian had missed his lips for the most part, but he had a feeling that it was a product of fear and self-restraint rather than poor aim. Roger had to resist the urge to touch his lips as millions of hitherto unknown emotions swirled in his chest like a storm.

For a long, tense moment, they stood in silence, Brian looking away from him and Roger searching his face in vain. “You,” Roger began, then stopped when he realized that his voice trembled. How stupid was it to be so affected? He had been kissed more times that he could count, had kissed people probably even more than that. But, he had never been kissed by a good friend, never even thought of being kissed by Brian. “You realized that you wanted to kiss me?” he asked testily.

Brian’s hair bounced as he nodded dejectedly. “And more,” he said quietly. “I realized that I never mind our fights. That no matter how annoying, stubborn, and ridiculous you are, I can’t really be angry with you. Even when I _am_ angry, I can’t wait to forgive you and forget everything because I want to spend time with you, talk to you, even argue with you again. I want to see you smile and laugh, _make_ you smile and laugh. I realized how much you mean to me: more than you should.”

Roger had had his share of confessions, but he had never heard or said one so filled with despair and regret. He understood why. There was more that could be lost, more than heart that could be broken. The risk was far more serious than the discovery by strict parents. The wrongness of it so deeply ingrained. Hopelessness was so clear in Brian’s voice and mannerisms. He could tell that Brian felt lost. Worse still, he expected rejection. Roger looked down to the bouquet now tightly clutched by Brian’s hand. Brian's reactions earlier made sense to him now. The peace offering had become an instrument of pain, unintentionally giving hope only to crush it a minute later when the bouquet turned out to be a precursor to an apology rather than a sign of affection. Roger didn’t do it deliberately, but he still felt guilty nonetheless.

“I’m sorry,” Brian said, sounding so completely remorseful that Roger’s heart broke a little to hear it. “If this bothers or disgusts you, I completely understand. So if you never want to see me again or if you don’t want me in Queen anymore…”

Despite himself, Roger was offended by how little Brian thought of him. After all these years, surely Brian knew he didn’t give a toss about what gender people happened to find attractive. He lived with Freddie for God’s sake! “You think I’d want you to quit the band just because you fancy men?” Roger asked indignantly.

“Not _men_ in general,” Brian corrected him, sounding a little unsure.

“Fine. Me. You think I’d want you to quit Queen just because you fancy me? You’re not the first bloke to like me! You know I don’t care about that!”

Brian frowned at him, lips pressed in a thin line. “I’m serious, Rog. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

Brian’s piercing eyes forced Roger to pause. Was he uncomfortable? He was definitely shocked. He hadn’t expected a kiss or a love confession when he came here. He was also confused, not knowing how to react to such feelings from a friend. But, shock and confusion didn’t always equal to discomfort. When they passed, Roger found himself perfectly calm. He hadn’t expected any of this, but it felt all right. Their friendship had shifted, but not for the worse. Far from uncomfortable, Roger felt it was the most natural thing that their close friendship over the years turned into something more. He thought if he were to start seeing one of his friends as a lover, it should be Brian whom he had known and hated and liked the longest. Falling in love with Brian made sense not just because he was nice and patient to him and argued yet understood him, as well as smart and the most level-headed of his friends, but also because Brian _was_ a friend, one that meant so much to Roger that he had spent a better part of two weeks agonizing over his absence which, now that Roger thought about it, said something rather important about himself.

Now, _that_ was a revelation. Just minutes ago he barged into Brian’s flat, firmly believing that Brian was only a very good friend whose forgiveness he was most anxious to get. Now, Roger found that somewhere along the way, when he wasn’t paying attention, Brian had become more than a friend, a band mate, or a brother-like figure. Brian’s company had become not only something he enjoyed, but also something he needed. He had taken up a huge space for himself in Roger’s heart. Now Roger understood why Brian disappeared for weeks to process everything. Roger thought he might need time, too, to figure out how much his platonic affection had deepened into something more romantic. He had inkling that it was quite a lot more than he thought, as pervasive as Brian’s presence was in his life. Roger felt a little out of his depth. Usually to him friendship grew after romance. How should he develop a relationship with someone who had known him—the best and the worst sides of him—better than anyone? What if they broke up? Could Roger handle losing a friend and a lover all at once when even two weeks of absence had put him this out of sorts? But, looking at Brian, Roger felt this was all right, because this was Brian, because they had gone through worse situations, greater tests to their friendship, and still came out unshakably side by side. This was a familiar territory even in its newness. They would figure things out. Roger knew it without a shadow of doubt.

Brian frowned when Roger removed his jacket and threw it haphazardly onto the back of Brian’s couch. “What are you doing?”

Roger sat down on the couch, leaving enough space for Brian to sit beside him if he so chose. He slung his arm over the back of the couch and looked at Brian from over his shoulder. “Figuring things out,” he said. When Brian continued to stare at him dumbfounded, he rolled his eyes. And people thought Brian was the smart one and Roger the dumb blond. “Not all of us need to quarantine ourselves from others to think, Brian,” he said dryly.

“Figure what out?” Brian asked warily.

“How much I want to kiss you back,” Roger replied, watching the play of emotions on Brian’s face intently, “and how important exactly you are to me that I spent the past couple of weeks miserably missing you.”

Brian stared at him silently for a long time, his face unreadable. Roger tapped his fingers on the back of the couch to count the seconds, a little impatient but not wanting to rush Brian. His heart lurched a little when Brian walked away, but calmed down when he saw that Brian only went to the kitchen. Roger smiled widely—he couldn’t help it—when Brian returned with the bouquet inside a glass half-filled with water. He was positively beaming when Brian put the glass down on the coffee table and sat down beside him. He still looked unsure and left a sizable space between them, but Roger noted that there was less tension in his shoulders and the warmth in his eyes started to return. He returned Roger’s smile slowly and although it wasn’t exactly like how it used to be, Roger knew everything would be fine in no time at all. Feeling daring and a little curious, Roger squeezed Brian’s shoulder. His hand lingered as he enjoyed the warmth he had never taken the time to appreciate before and his heart leapt in joy when Brian let him.

“What did you write there?” Roger asked, nodding to the sheet of paper on the table.

“A sad song,” Brian replied, glancing at the paper. “It’s not done yet and I’m open for suggestions. You- _we_ can change it if we want,” he offered carefully.

Roger wanted. They spent the next hours modifying the song, changing every melancholic line into hopeful one, turning every doubt into promise. The gap between them diminished by millimeter until they were pressed side to side, guitar forgotten, hands flirting with each other, smiling and laughing as a new chapter of their entangled lives started before them.

**Author's Note:**

> Not that Roger was aware of this, but Lily of the valley means return of happiness, while red tulip means declaration of love. I just love this secret language of flowers and couldn't resist leaving some here. Pretty neat that they have a song titled "Lily of the Valley".
> 
> For now I can still be found on [tumblr](http://demonessryu.tumblr.com/). I have a discord but I open it like once a year, so.


End file.
